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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29327310">The Chronicles of Dad (A Charlie Barber x You AU One Shot Collection)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/vividlittlevox/pseuds/vividlittlevox'>vividlittlevox</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Adam Driver - Fandom, Charlie Barber - Fandom, Kylo Ren - Fandom, Marriage Story (2019), Marriage Story - Fandom</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Adam Driver - Freeform, Charlie Barber - Freeform, Charlie Barber x You - Freeform, Charlie Being Charlie, Charlie in Dad Mode, Cute, Dad - Freeform, Embarrassing moments, Father and son bonding, Fatherhood, Fluff, Happy Merry Everything, Happy Merry Everything Universe, Henry being hilarious, Henry testing patience, One Shot, One Shot Collection, POV, Self Insert, adorable moments, awww moments, charlie x reader - Freeform, collection, dad bod, daddy - Freeform, marriage story</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-04-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 10:49:24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>6,826</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29327310</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/vividlittlevox/pseuds/vividlittlevox</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>One Shot Collection of Charlie Barber x You AU</p><p>This is based in the Happy Merry Everything Universe.</p><p>This collection is open to requests!  Feel free to DM me with what you'd like to see.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Charlie Barber &amp; You, Charlie Barber x Reader, Charlie Barber/Reader, Charlie Barber/You</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>12</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. INTRODUCTION</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p>This series takes place in the Happy Merry Everything Universe and features all of the little moments between Charlie and Henry we never really get to see. This is open to requests! Hope you enjoy! Thanks so much for reading! </p><p> </p><p>Instagram/Twitter: @vividlittlevox</p><p>DM me for an invite to my Discord, Theatre Daddy and Company!</p><p>Tiktok: @vividlittlevox </p><p> </p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. "YEET"</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>"Yeet!"</p><p><b><em>"What?" </em></b>Charlie was puzzled as he looked up from the vegetables he was sautéing. He peered over at Henry, who was throwing little handfuls of potato peels into the trash instead of tossing them in all in one go. <em>"Yeet!"</em></p><p>
  <b> <em>"Hen--Henry, what? Are you saying 'yeet'? What's 'yeet'? What's that mean?"</em> </b>
</p><p>Henry shrugged as he returned to his little station to work on chopping up the other vegetables for the salad. "I dunno. Yeet's just <em>yeet</em>."</p><p>
  <b> <em>"Where did you hear that word?"</em> </b>
</p><p>"Axel says it and I thought it sounded cool so I started saying it too."<br/><b><em>"Well, if Axel jumped off a bridge would you jump off too?"</em></b><br/>"No, that sounds dangerous."<br/><b><em>"So is repeating words when we don't know what they mean."</em></b></p><p>You came into the kitchen and gave Charlie a kiss on the cheek. <em>"Need any help in here?"</em></p><p>Charlie was looking around for anything you could work on when Henry piped up all too happily.</p><p>"You can set the table," he offered, chopping cherry tomatoes in half one by one.</p><p>
  <b> <em>"Henry Aaron Barber."</em> </b>
</p><p>"Sorry. That's my job." You stifled a giggle as you grabbed a fork to pierce one of the vegetables in Charlie's pan. He playfully swatted your hand away. <b><em>"Those aren't even close to being cooked yet."</em></b>  You smiled.<em> "But I'm hungry now."</em></p><p>"Me too," said Henry. "My tummy's rumbly." </p><p>
  <b> <em>"We'll eat soon, I promise. The chicken only needs another 20 minutes."</em> </b>
</p><p>Henry picked up a small cherry tomato which was a little less firm than the others and gleefully announced, "I'm throwing this one away. It's mushy." He crossed over to the trash can and once again shouted, "YEET!" as he tossed it inside. </p><p>Charlie stopped down and turned to you, lowering his voice. <em><b>"What the hell does 'yeet' mean?"</b> </em>Being a few years his junior and working at SNL, he hoped you of all people would be able to explain his son's newfound fascination with what he considered a remarkably made up word. After all, you had your finger on the pulse of pop culture within today's youth--or so he assumed. </p><p>
  <em>"Well...yeet is yeet."</em>
</p><p>Henry smiled. "Told you." </p><p>You continued. <em>"I think it came from a Vine a long time ago. Someone threw something and said 'yeet' so now it's just something people say."</em></p><p>Charlie stared at you blankly. <b><em>"What's Vine?"</em></b></p><p>You could feel yourself smirking and you weren't exactly proud, but the whole ordeal was too damn amusing. </p><p>He shook his head. <b><em>"Henry, why don't we try something else. Hmm? Maybe we could think of our own word to say instead of saying...</em></b>" He sighed. <b><em>"Yeet."</em></b> You could tell it hurt his soul to even say it. <em>Poor thing. </em></p><p><b><em>"I mean...Do you have to say 'yeet'? Why do you need to say anything when you throw something away? Just open the lid and toss it in."</em>  </b>Charlie said it more to himself than to Henry. </p><p>Henry was still thinking of an alternative to his new favorite word. He was cutting another tomato in two when he looked up, beaming. "Carter says Kobe."</p><p>Charlie sighed. <em><b>"Well, we don't have to do everything Carter does either because it's good to think for ourselves." </b></em> He was really getting worked up over this. You did your best to comfort him, rubbing his shoulders as you stood by, watching him shove the vegetables around in the pan with a little too much force. He softened under your touch before muttering, "I love you" and giving you a half smile. </p><p>You whispered it back into his ear causing him to perk up. </p><p><em><b>"I've got it!"</b></em>  he exclaimed, shutting off the stove. <b><em>"What if you said something like, "Yea verily" or..."</em></b> He snapped his fingers, willing his mind to bring forth some witty phrase Henry would enjoy using. </p><p>You interjected.<em> "Take that, trash!"</em></p><p>Henry's eyes lit up as he grabbed a piece of tomato and joyfully tossed it in. "Yeah! Take that, trash!" </p><p>Charlie furrowed his brow. <em><b>"Hey--don't waste--never mind, it's fine."</b></em></p><p>
  <em> <b>_________</b> </em>
</p><p>A/N: Hope you enjoyed this little story about you, Henry, and Charlie! DMs are open for requests in this series! Let me know your thoughts!</p><p>This even funnier to me when I think about the "Yeet" song that came out of SNL recently. I hope she showed that skit to Charlie.  LOL</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. "Where Do Babies Come From?"</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <b>
    <em>
      
    </em>
  </b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>
    <em>"Say that one more time?"</em>
  </b>
</p><p>Henry looked up at him from his iPad. "Where do babies come from?"</p><p>Charlie looked concerned, instantly reaching for the iPad. <b><em>"Why? You didn't google that, did you?"</em></b></p><p>Henry stared back blankly. "No. Should I?"</p><p>Charlie was tapping away to make sure that the parental settings on the iPad were locked as tight they possibly could be. <b><em>"Not until you're a lot older."</em></b></p><p>"How much older?"<br/><b><em>"Like married and have a house older."</em></b><br/>"I'll have a knife by then."</p><p><b><em>"What?"</em></b>  This snapped Charlie out of it, the thought quite violent.</p><p>"You said I could get one when I'm older." Relief quickly washed over him as he began silently thanking whatever wherever that he wasn't raising a tiny future serial killer.</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>"You're right. I did say that."</em>
  </b>
</p><p>"So babies..."</p><p>Charlie moved to sit next to Henry on the bed and took a deep breath, trying to prepare himself for the inevitable talk he had hoped would come much later in life.</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>"Before I answer this, how much do you want to know?"</em>
  </b>
</p><p>Henry sat up. "What do you mean?"</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>"Well, when you're asking where they come from, do you want to know how babies are born or how babies are made?"</em>
  </b>
</p><p>"Is that different?"<br/><b><em>"Yes."</em></b><br/>"What's the difference?"<br/><b><em>"A lot more information."</em></b></p><p>Charlie ran a hand through his hair. He'd always thought this would be a discussion he wouldn't be having alone. He considered asking you, but you were in happily baking cookies in the other room, blissfully unaware of the conversation at hand. He also didn't now how you'd feel about stepping into a maternal role so quickly, especially since the two of you weren't even engaged...not yet anyway.</p><p>He decided to mix things up and change directions. <b><em>"Why don't we do this: Why don't you tell me what you know and we'll go from there?"</em></b></p><p>As soon as he asked, he regretted it. The question was more loaded than he realized as he sat back and waited for anything and everything to come out of his son's mouth. He only hoped that his sweet boy was still as innocent as he thought.</p><p>"Well, I know they live in mommies tummies."<br/><b><em>"That's right. They start out really small and grow bigger and bigger until they're ready to be born."</em></b><br/>"How small? Like a potato?"<br/><b><em>"Smaller."</em></b><br/>"Like a marble?"<br/><b><em>"Even smaller."</em></b><br/>"Wow..." Henry sat rather pensively, taking everything in.</p><p>"How does it get in there?"<br/><b><em>"What?"</em></b><br/>"The baby."</p><p>Charlie's mind suddenly felt like it had been wiped clean. He starting fumbling his words; he wasn't ready to use the real terms with Henry yet, but also didn't want to feed him the whole "a woman's body is a garden and men fertilize their flowers" load of bullshit. Henry knew what was what in an anatomical way. He and Nicole had never been coy about that. It was the knowledge of the mechanics behind everything that he lacked and even though Henry was growing up, Charlie just couldn't bring himself to fill in the blanks.</p><p>About that time, you rapped on the doorframe to Henry's room. In your entire relationship, you'd never seen Charlie look so relieved.</p><p><em>"Cookies will be ready soon,"</em> you offered sweetly. It took no time at all for you to clock the panic spreading over Charlie's face. <em>"What are you two up to?"</em></p><p>"Daddy's telling me where babies come from."</p><p>Your eyes grew wide as you did your best not to burst out laughing, but the proverbial "help me" written in large letters across Charlie's forehead was just too much to handle. His eyes pleaded for you to stay.</p><p><em>"I think I'll leave you to it then."  </em>As you turned to leave, Henry's little voice squeaked out behind you.</p><p>"Do you know more than Daddy? Because you're a girl and babies grow in mommies tummies?"</p><p>You chose your words carefully, looking to Charlie for guidance. He had none.</p><p>
  <em>"I probably know just as much."</em>
</p><p>"Have you ever had a baby?" Henry asked curiously.</p><p>You smiled. <em>"No, sweetie, I haven't."</em></p><p>"Are you ever going to?"</p><p>Charlie interjected.<b><em>"Why don't you tell me what else you know?"</em></b></p><p>Henry was quiet for a moment before responding. "I know when babies are ready to be born the mommies poop them out."</p><p>The two of you shared a look. You snorted, pressing your lips together hard and willing yourself not to laugh. Charlie covered his mouth with his hand and shook silently, holding it in until he couldn't.</p><p>"What? They do!"<br/>——————-<br/>A/N: I giggled the entire time I wrote this. Let me know if you have a request!</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chef Henry</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>"Can I make breakfast?"</p><p>The sincerity in his question took Charlie aback. <b><em>"You really want to make breakfast?" </em></b><br/>"Uh huh."</p><p><b>"Well," </b>he started, thinking it over.<b> "W</b><b>hat would you want to make?"</b></p><p><br/>He was genuinely intrigued. Henry was a great kitchen helper, but his skills were still quite limited. He was only allowed to use knife when being supervised and since his little accident, he no longer had access to the oven or stove without assistance. His one time attempt at cooking a piece of plastic fruit at G-Ma's resulted in Charlie having to buy Sandra a brand new stainless steel pan and a call to the fire department. In Henry's opinion, it wasn't all bad. After all, that was the day he got to meet firefighters in real life. </p><p>"It's a surprise," Henry said proudly. </p><p><b><em>"Do you need to use the stove?"<br/></em></b>"No."<br/><b><em>"What about a knife?"<br/></em></b>"Can I use one that isn't sharp?"<br/><b><em>"Like a case knife?"<br/></em></b>"What's that?"<br/><b><em>"A butter knife."<br/></em></b>"No, like one you'd use for toast."<br/><em><b>"That's a butter knife."<br/></b></em>"Oh."</p><p>Charlie wandered over to a drawer and pulled out the knife in question. <b><em>"So one of these?"</em></b><br/>Henry nodded as Charlie placed it down on the counter. </p><p><b><em>"Do you need anything else? Anything you can't reach?"<br/></em></b><br/>Henry stood there for a moment, racking his brain. "The peanut butter."</p><p>Charlie smiled, retrieving it from the cabinet. <b><em>"Peanut butter. Anything else?"</em></b></p><p>"Um...the marshmallow fluff."</p><p><b><em>"Are you making a fluffernutter?"</em></b>  he asked, mildly surprised by Henry's selection of a winning combination of ingredients. <br/>"What's that?"<br/><b><em>"I'll explain after breakfast,"</em></b> he said, not wanting to influence his son's creative choices. <b><em>"Need anything else from the cabinet?"</em></b></p><p>Henry crossed his arms. "Um...can I have a cutting board, please?"<br/><br/>Charlie leaned down to retrieve a cutting board from a lower cabinet and placed it on the counter next to the butter knife. He smiled, watching as little hands carefully opened the fridge to survey what ingredients were at his disposal. </p><p>"Dad. Go. I'm cooking now."<br/><br/>He chuckled. <b><em>"Yes, Chef." </em></b></p><p>"Sit down." <br/><em><b>"Are we playing restaurant?"</b>  </em>he asked as he sat down.<br/>"No. I'm just the chef today.</p><p>About that time you came out of the bedroom, dressed and ready for the day. Going by the look on Charlie's face you were a sight for sore eyes even though he had seen you not even 20 minutes ago. You took a seat beside him at the table, a smile slowly spreading across your countenance as you noticed Henry hard at work in the kitchen. </p><p><em>"What's all this?"</em> you asked softly, making a small gesture toward the kitchen.</p><p>Charlie leaned over. <b><em>"This is Chez Barber,"</em></b>  he said, matter of fact. <b><em>"and that's their chef de cuisine, Chef Henry. He's making us breakfast."</em></b></p><p>You beamed. The whole ordeal was precious.<em> "Oh really? I thought you were the chef de cuisine at Chez Barber," </em>you teased.</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>"No, I'm retired. But don't worry--I left things in very capable hands. I heard they just earned their first Michelin star."</em>
  </b>
</p><p>Henry grumbled as he cut up what appeared to be a banana. "Dad. I said we're not playing restaurant."<br/><br/>Charlie put up his hands playfully. <b><em>"You're right--we're not."</em></b>  He turned to you. <b><em>"This is not a restaurant."  </em></b>He said, his face sporting a playful expression of faux gravitas.</p><p>You both tittered, curious as to what culinary creation Chef Henry had in store for you both. You heard multiple containers open, plastic lids hitting the counter. </p><p>Charlie peered over at the kitchen, surreptitiously trying to catch a glimpse of anything, but Henry wasn't having it. "Dad. This is a <em>surprise</em>."</p><p>Charlie chuckled. <b><em>"I'm sorry. I won't do it again."</em></b></p><p>"Can I use the microwave?" </p><p>He looked at you, confusion on his face before he replied. <b><em>"Uh, sure. Yeah. Do you need help?"</em></b></p><p>"No. Mom lets me microwave mac and cheese cups all the time." </p><p>He rolls his eyes at the thought of Henry having to fend for himself at Nicole's. You lovingly rubbed over his arm, comforting him, which earned you a small half smile in return. </p><p>You both hear the microwave beep and look over in time to see Henry removing his masterpiece ever so carefully, using oven mitts in case the plate is hot. He cuts whatever it is in half and brings it over to the table. </p><p>"Breakfast," Henry says proudly. </p><p>You and Charlie look down at the plate. It's..<em>.interesting</em> to say the least. </p><p><b><em>"What did you make for us?"</em></b> Charlie asks, trying his best to be enthusiastic.</p><p>"It's a breakfast sandwich. It has peanut butter, butter, bananas..."<br/><br/>You both listened intently. So far the list didn't sound too bad. </p><p>"...marshmallow fluff, mayonnaise, mozzarella cheese, cheddar cheese..."<br/><br/>Scratch everything you said before. </p><p>Henry continued, "...crushed potato chips, and Sir Cha Cha."<br/><br/><b><em>"Sriracha?" </em></b><br/>"Yeah."</p><p>Charlie looks over at Henry with his best supportive dad smile and then turns to you. <b><em>"It looks great, doesn't it?"</em></b><br/><br/><em>"It does look yummy,"</em> you said, trying to sound convincing all the while shuddering inside knowing at some point you'd have to take a bite. </p><p><b><em>"Henry, I do have one question,"</em></b> he said, looking over the plate. <b><em>"Why the pickle?"</em></b><br/>"That's the garnish. Because it's green."<br/><b><em>"Oh...yeah, that makes sense."</em></b></p><p>"Take a bite, Dad,"  Henry said, eagerly waiting for you both to try it. </p><p>Charlie picked up a half of the "sandwich" and looked at you again. </p><p><em>"Bon appetit,"</em> you said, grinning. Charlie playfully cut his eyes at you before turning back to Henry with his game face on. </p><p><b><em>"Here we go,"</em></b> he said, leaning in to take his usual big bite. You could tell he was holding it in his mouth, chewing a little as to not be impolite. <b><em>"Mmm...It's very good, </em></b>" he said, his mouth half full, before getting up to get a glass of water. </p><p>Henry sat down at the table as your eyes stayed glued on Charlie. This man's ability to be an incredible father was unmatched. You watched as he actually <em>swallowed</em> the bite he took, holding a napkin briefly to his mouth, before downing an entire glass of water. He refilled it and stood for a moment by the sink. </p><p>The table was moving slightly. You could tell Henry was swinging his legs excitedly as he sat. </p><p>"You next!" Henry exclaimed. You heard Charlie huff out a laugh as he walked back over to sit down. He placed the glass of water down in front of you along with a napkin and grinned. </p><p>
  <b>
    <em>"Bon appetit." </em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>______</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>A/N: Did anyone else gag? Just me? Okay 😂 Let me know what else you'd like to see in this collection! Hope you're having a great day and thanks for reading! :)</em>
  </b>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. "Poo-Pourri"</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p>
  
</p><p> </p><p>You and Charlie were cozied up on the couch, getting ready to watch a movie when Henry wandered into the living room holding a small bottle.</p><p>"Dad, what's this?"</p><p>Charlie's handful of popcorn stopped halfway to his mouth when he saw the bottle, his eyes growing wide as the kernels fell back into the bowl. His hand instantly reached out for it. <b><em>"Henry, can I have--"</em></b></p><p>"Poo-po...Poo..."</p><p><em>"Poo-pourri?"</em>  You interjected, trying to conceal your urge to smile. You could feel the a fit of giggles threatening to spew out of you. Charlie looked like a deer in headlights, all the while politely trying to take the bottle from Henry.</p><p>Henry repeated it. "Poo-pourri. What <em>is</em> this?"</p><p><b><em>"Henry, can Daddy have that please?"</em></b><br/>"Is this cologne?"</p><p>You snorted, covering your mouth. <b><em>"Not exactly,"</em></b> Charlie said, mortified. <b><em>"Henry...please go put that back."</em></b></p><p>"What is it?"<br/><b><em>"Where did you even find that?"</em></b><br/>"Under the sink."<br/><b><em>"Then will </em></b><b><em>you </em></b><b><em>put it back where you found it, please?"</em></b></p><p>By now you were shaking from silent giggles, holding a pillow over your face, disappointed in yourself for finding it so funny. Henry noticed and was instantly amused.</p><p>"What's it for?"<br/><b><em>"Henry, we can talk about it later."</em></b><br/>"<em>Poo</em>-pourri...is this..." Henry giggled. "Is this for<em> pooping</em>?"<br/><b><em>"Henry."</em></b><br/>"It's for pooping!" he exclaimed, all too gleefully.</p><p><b><em>"Jesus Christ,"</em></b>  Charlie muttered under his breath. You and Charlie had been together as a couple and in each other's space for months now. But outside of some talk surrounding birth control and your period, neither of you had opened the door to a conversation about having functioning human bodies. Charlie hadn't so much as burped in front of you, even on accident. Henry, on the other hand, was a different story.</p><p>"Why do we have poop spray?"</p><p>Charlie turned to you, embarrassed.</p><p><b><em>"I am so sorry,"</em></b>  he murmurs as he runs a hand through his hair. You smiled softly, touching his arm in an effort to comfort him.</p><p>He stood up and walked with Henry out of the room, his eyes nearly rolling out of his head as he prepared himself to deal with this. <b><em>"Come on..."</em></b></p><p>Henry giggled all the while. "It's poop spray! <em>POOP </em>spray!"</p><p>_______</p><p>A/N: The things Henry finds amusing! Thoughts? 😂Let me know if you have a special request for this series! Leave a comment or feel free to DM because my inbox is always open!</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. "Shit"</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  
</p><p> </p><p>"Ow, shit!"</p><p>Charlie closed the book he was reading and shifted his body, angling himself toward the hallway. He turned back to look at you, his brow knitted together in confusion, as you sat over on opposite on the end of the sofa with your feet in his lap.<br/><em>"What's wrong, baby?"</em> you asked, looking up from your own book.</p><p>His pensive countenance was sprinkled with notes of irritation and bewilderment.</p><p><b><em>"Did he just say what I think he said?" </em></b>He asked softly, bringing his finger up to his mouth as he contemplated.</p><p>
  <em>"What do you think he said?"</em>
</p><p><b><em>"Henry?" </em></b><b></b>Charlie called out in his best dad voice. It was strong and authoritative, but full of affection—and it was something were growing used to the more time you spent around the two of them together.</p><p>"Yes?" Henry shouted back from his room.<br/><b><em>"Come in here, please."</em></b><br/>"Why?"<br/><b><em><span class="u">"Henry."</span></em></b><br/>"Do I have to?"<br/><b><em>"Yes, you do. Now come in here."</em></b></p><p>If you happened to be listening closely, you were almost certain Henry's sigh could be heard all the way on the Upper West Side. His little feet stepped heavily as he made his way into the living room to meet what he assumed would be his impending doom.</p><p>"Hi."<br/>Charlie was still reflective. He brought his hand to his mouth once more as he gathered his words in preparation of what he hoped wouldn't be giving Henry a stern talking to.</p><p><b><em>"What did I hear you say just now?"</em></b>he asked, calmly.<br/>"Hi?"<br/><b><em>"No, when you were in your room. You and said 'ow' and another word after that."</em></b><br/>"Oh."<br/><b><em>"Yes. What was the other word?"</em></b><br/>"Um...I don't know."<br/><b><em>"Henry, what did we learn about lying?"</em></b><br/>"That we shouldn't do it, even if G-Ma says it's okay because the lie is small."<br/><b><em>"That's right, so I'll ask again—what did you say?"</em></b></p><p>Henry was fidgeting, playing with his hands and refusing to look at him, almost as if he were sure making eye contact would make his overall punishment worse. Charlie, however, was a model father. By comparison, and by comparison you meant what you had seen amongst New York parents in the wild, his style of parenting was fairly nouveau. Not only did he show unwavering patience and understanding, he also encouraged Henry to use his words rather than to express himself outwardly with tantrums. You wondered if it had anything to do with what he saw in his childhood home growing up or potentially lack thereof. Sometimes you let your mind wander to the kind of father he'd be to any child you two would share later in life, if you were so lucky.</p><p><b><em>"You're not in trouble. You can tell me."</em></b>Charlie said softly.<br/>Henry finally looked up to meet Charlie's gaze. His eyes were like two tiny pools of guilt threatening to spill over.<br/>"I said 'shit'."<br/><b><em>"You said </em></b><b><em>'</em></b><b><em>Shit</em></b><b><em>'?"</em></b><br/>"Yeah."<br/><b><em>"Where did you hear that?"</em></b><br/>"You."<br/><b><em>"Me?"</em></b><br/>"Yeah and from Mommy."</p><p>You knew Charlie cursed around Henry. That wasn't new information to either of you. You admitted he was a bit of a free spirit with his grandiloquence, but that was only because he wasn't a believer in stifling creative lexicons. Occasionally, Henry would ask what a curse word meant and Charlie would simply tell him it was nothing or ignore it. Other times, he'd flat out tell him it wasn't a word intended for him to use.</p><p><b><em>"Why exactly did you say it?"</em></b><br/>"I stepped on one of my legos."</p><p>Charlie resisted the urge to chuckle. His feet, too, had become all too accustomed to the feeling of the small plastic play blocks sinking into his soles.<br/><b>"And you felt like that warranted a 'shit'?"</b><br/>"Yeah."<br/><b><em>"Do you know what 'shit' means?"</em></b><br/>"No."<br/><b><em>"Then you shouldn't say it."</em></b><br/>"Why?"<br/><b><em>"Do you know how I said you couldn't get a knife until you were older? Until you were married?"</em></b><br/>"Yes."<br/><b><em>"It's kind of like that. Some words aren't meant for you to say until you're older."</em></b></p><p>Henry stood there pensively, carefully going over his father's words before he responded.<br/>"But you're not married."</p><p>Needless to say, Charlie was flabbergasted by the way Henry raked him over the coals. As you sat in silence watching everything unfold, you decided it was a most epic burn, indeed.</p><p>Charlie, managed to pull himself together, his brow furrowed.</p><p><b><em>"What does that have to do with anything?"</em></b><br/>"You said I have to be married to say 'shit'. You're not married and you say 'shit'."<br/><b><em>"Stop saying 'shit'."</em></b><br/>"That's what you said," Henry pressed, insistently.<br/><b>"That is an </b><b><span class="u">interpretation</span></b><b> of what I said and is not, in fact, what I said."</b><br/>"So...I can't say it."<br/><b><em>"No. You can't and you shouldn't."</em></b><br/>"Then am I in trouble?"<br/><b><em>"No, because you were honest with me, but I do want you to play out here for the rest of the day."</em></b><br/>Henry huffed. "Do I have to?"<br/><b><em>"Yes, you do."</em></b></p><p>He sighed. "Fine."<br/><b>"And don't say it anymore, okay?"</b><br/>"Okay."</p><p>Charlie motioned for Henry.<b><em>"Come here." </em></b>He tugged Henry over and planted a big kiss on his head, causing Henry to giggle and pretend to protest. <b><em>"Love you."</em></b></p><p>"I love you too, Dad."</p><p>Henry walked out of the living room to go grab some of his toys to bring into the living room. Charlie turned to you and you smiled fondly.</p><p><em>"So, no more swearing for you, huh?" </em>You teased once he was out of earshot.<br/>Charlie gave you a toothy grin. <b><em>"Who knew I needed to be a married man to curse?"</em></b></p><p>You were feeling bold. <em>"We should do something about that one day---at least, I think we should."</em></p><p>His eyes locked with yours, nothing but an expression of love on his face as he reached for you affectionately. </p><p>
  <b>
    <em>"You do?"</em>
  </b>
  <br/>
  <em>"Yeah, I really do."</em>
</p><p>
  <em>____</em>
</p><p>A/N: Oh shit! Hope you enjoyed! lol Feel free to DM me any requests you have for this collection. If you haven't already, check out "Happy Merry Everything", the universe in which these little stories are based.</p><p> </p>
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<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Flush</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"Little Thanksgiving". It was everything Henry loved about Thanksgiving without the agony of waiting. The only real difference was that tonight you and Charlie decided to prepare the real deal. Henry could barely contain his excitement over seeing the bird roasting away in the oven, noting every chance he got how much more interesting it was watching the big bird browning up compared to the tiny roulade he was used to. You were almost ready for the big event, the carving and serving of the bird, when Henry excused himself to go take care of a more <em>pressing</em> matter. In the meantime, Charlie was busy finishing making his famous whipped potatoes as you pulled the beautifully cooked turkey from the oven. No sooner than you removed your mitts, in walked Henry looking a little less innocent than when he left. </p><p>Charlie, on the other hand, hadn't even noticed. He was lost in thought, putting last minute touches on this and that. As Henry returned, he was just picking up his beer from the counter and taking a big sip.</p><p>"Dad. Help." Henry muttered in the smallest voice ever.</p><p><strong><em>"What's wrong?"</em></strong><br/><br/>Henry rocked back and forth on his heels, glancing over at you before looking back at Charlie. </p><p>"I broke the toilet." <br/>Charlie nearly choked on his beverage. <b><em>"What?"</em></b></p><p>Henry looked over at you again, this time more embarrassed. "Help."</p><p>His father's brow was furrowed. You could tell by his expression Charlie was curious and even a little concerned, but certainly not angry.</p><p><b><em>"What did you do?"</em>  </b>he asked softly. </p><p>"I...I pooped."</p><p>Charlie tried not to laugh. Of all the answers Henry could have responded with, "Help me. I pooped." wasn't exactly what he was expecting. </p><p><em><b>"And you broke the toilet?"</b></em><br/>"No. My <em>poop</em> broke the toilet."<br/><b><em>"Did you--?"<br/></em></b>"It won't flush. Please help.</p><p>Charlie took a deep breath and set his beer back down on the counter. He gave you an apologetic smile. <em>Duty called in more ways than one.</em> <b><em>"I'll be right back. I have to go--do the thing." </em></b></p><p>He smiled, sighing. <b><em>"Come on," </em> </b>he said, putting his arm around Henry, leading him out of the kitchen and down the hall. </p><p>You could hear Henry continuing to apologize as they walked away. "I'm sorry. I couldn't get it to go down. I'm not strong enough." </p><p>While the two of them were hard at work in the bathroom, or rather while Henry supervised, you took it upon yourself to finish dinner. All the while, Charlie's voice was booming as he attempted to fix the tissue issue. From the sound of it, they were deep in a rather amusing discussion, prompting you to step into the living room for a better listen. The whole thing was just too precious to miss. </p><p><em><b>"Did you make toilet paper mummies again?"</b></em><br/>"No."<br/><em><b>"Henry."</b></em><br/>"Just one."</p><p>
  <em>Who knew Henry was a budding Egyptologist. </em>
</p><p>"It stinks in here."<br/><em><b>"Well, you didn't use the spray."<br/></b></em>"It smells weird."<br/><br/></p><p>After a few more minutes of struggle, you finally heard a flush followed immediately by the sound of Henry's tiny hands clapping for Charlie and his ability to tackle his toilet terrors. </p><p>"Do I get a present now?" <br/><b><em>"For what?"</em></b><br/>"Pooping."<br/><br/>Charlie sighed. <b><em>"I--Henry--Pooping is its own reward."</em></b></p><p>"Mom gives me presents for pooping."<br/><b><em>"Still? How about a squatty potty?"</em></b><br/>"What's that? Something for pooping?"<br/><b><em>"Yep."</em></b><br/>"Oh. I don't think I want a present anymore."</p><p>Your two cuties washed up and came back into the living room. Charlie sank into the couch, running a hand through his hair as he called out to you. <b><em>"I'll help finish up in a few. I just need a minute."</em></b></p><p>You cut off the stove and made your way to the sofa, coming over to snuggle into him. </p><p>
  <em>"I guess now's not a great time to ask you to help make the giblet gravy, is it?"</em>
</p><p>
  <em>----</em>
</p><p>A/N: Hope everyone's having a great day! Comment or DM me any requests you'd like to see in the future! :) </p><p>Let's be friends!</p><p>Instagram/Twitter/A03/Tiktok: <a href="https://www.wattpad.com/user/vividlittlevox">vividlittlevox</a></p><p>DM me for an invite to my Discord, Theatre Daddy and Company for all things Charlie Barber! :)</p>
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<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Cheese Pizza</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Charlie and Henry sat across from one another at one of their favorite little pizza joints. They were respectively devouring the cheesiest slices the place had to offer when Henry's greasy little hands plucked Charlie's phone from the table and began swiping away at apps. Typically, unless he had express permission from his dad, electronics time was reserved for after meals. However since he wasn't looking, Henry thought now was the perfect time to play, especially since he knew Charlie's mouth would be too full to say "no". </p><p>Yes, his father was all too busy chowing down on his own slice to notice him unlocking his phone or fooling around for that matter. He was so involved in his pizza that he hadn't even clocked Henry snapping the picture and the sound of the artificial shutter clicking was inaudible thanks to the phone being on vibrate. Henry, knowing his dad had a one track mind when hungry, didn't feel bad in the slightest about taking advantage. It wasn't until his little fingers were typing up a storm that Charlie looked up from his lunch.</p><p><b><em>"What are you doing?"</em></b>  he asked, wiping grease from the corner of his mouth. Henry was still inspecting the phone. </p><p>"Why do you have Snapchat? You're old," he said, matter of fact. Charlie was floored, and frankly a little hurt, by his offspring's blunt response. He took a sip of his soda, mulling over his words before responding. </p><p><b><em>"First of all, that wasn't very nice. And second, someone asked me to download it, so I did."</em></b> Henry, perceptive as ever, didn't miss a beat. A sly smile appeared across his countenance as he said your name. He really liked you being around, but also thoroughly enjoyed teasing his dad about having a girlfriend. Charlie chuckled. <b><em>"Yes, that's exactly who asked me...but that still doesn't answer my question. What are you up to?"</em></b></p><p>Henry smiled.<br/>"I'm sending a Snapchat."<br/><b><em>"Of what?"</em></b><br/>"You eating pizza."<br/>Henry turned the phone around to show Charlie the phone causing him to snicker. </p><p>
  <b>
    <em>"Oh, I'm sure she'll love that."</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>"Help me send it?" he requested, shoving the phone into his dad's large hand. "Please?" Charlie smiled, more than happy to oblige as he selected your contact in the app and pressed send. He halfheartedly considered sending a text to apologize for the shot of him gobbling down his lunch, but knew you'd only roll your eyes. </p><p>Henry clapped once he saw the message sent and rejoiced even more when Charlie told him you opened it. </p><p>"Send her one of me now." <br/><b><em>"Okay,"  </em></b>Charlie said, taking another bite before indulging him.He wiped his hands and mouth on the worn paper napkin and picked up the phone again. <em><b>"Smile."</b></em><br/>Henry pouted in protest. "No. Like yours."<br/><br/>Charlie huffed out a laugh and shook his head, waiting for him to pose. <b><em>"Well, go ahead. Let me know when you're ready." </em></b></p><p>Henry picked up his slice of cheese pizza, still perfectly gooey, and brought it up to his mouth. "Wait for me to take a bite, then take the picture. Okay?" </p><p><b><em>"Okay." </em></b><br/><br/>Henry went in for a big bite and Charlie took the photo at the perfect moment. He smiled, saving the photo to his camera roll, and turned the phone around for his son's approval. </p><p><b><em>"What do you think? Did I do a good job?"</em></b><br/>"You have to put a message on it, Dad." <br/><br/>He tittered and began typing out a caption. <b><em>"What about now? Is this better?"</em></b> Henry grinned and put his pizza slice back on his plate. Charlie reached over with his napkin and wiped his son's mouth. </p><p>"Read it to me."<br/><br/>Charlie smiled and read the words running across the image to him. </p><p><b><em>"Henry wanted you to see him take a bite too. Thank you for loving us." <br/></em></b>"That's really long."<br/><b><em>"Maybe, but I think she'll like it."</em></b><br/>"I like the heart."<br/><b><em>"Me too."<br/></em></b>"You should add a pizza emoji like I did."<br/><b><em>"Okay."</em></b><br/><br/></p><p>
  
</p><p> </p>
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<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Rain</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  
</p><p> </p><p>Charlie longed for New York in the rain. As he drove down Sunset Blvd to the Arclight, yet another idiot slammed on his breaks. It made him miss the overpriced taxis and the not so subtle stink of the subway. Absolutely no one in LA knew how to drive. <b><em>"Goddammit,"</em></b> he mumbled, stopping short. "Why goddammit?" Henry asked from the backseat, still somewhat engrossed in his video game.</p><p><b><em>"Henry, can you turn the volume down on that thing please? It's very distracting." </em></b><br/>"But then I can't hear Wade talking to me," Henry whined, pressing a button to lower the volume by one minor decibel.</p><p><b><em>"Who's Wade?"</em></b><br/>"He's my penguin."<br/><b><em>"You have a penguin game?"</em></b><br/>"No. He lives on my island." <br/><b><em>"You have an island?"</em></b><br/>"Yeah. Barber Bay. Isn't that cool?" <br/><br/>Charlie was still trying to focus on the road. <b><em>"That's very cool, honey."</em></b></p><p>"Are we going to a movie because it's raining?"<br/><b><em>"That's exactly why we're going." </em></b></p><p>"We could go to In-N-Out instead." By now, Henry was looking out the window, the funky sounds of his in-game music still filling the car.</p><p><b><em>"You don't want popcorn? We can even get one of the soft pretzels you like." </em></b><br/>"Maybe. Can I get Sour Patch Kids?"<br/><em><b>"Will you share them with me?" </b></em><br/>"You don't like them." <br/><b><em>"Yes, I do." </em></b><br/>"You always say they're too sour."<br/><b><em>"I do not."</em></b><br/>"You make this face and your cheeks get all weird, see?"<br/><b><em>"Uh huh."</em></b><br/>"Dad, you're not looking."<br/><br/>Charlie depressed his turn signal, waiting his turn to go into the parking structure closest to the theater's entrance. </p><p>"Dad."<br/><b><em>"Honey, give me a second." </em></b></p><p>Once he had gotten his ticket and gone up a floor or two, he parked close to the small elevator bank, shut off the engine, and turned around in his seat.</p><p><b><em>"Okay. Now, show me. What is this face I supposedly make?" <br/></em></b><br/>Henry offered him a small grin, unbuckling and leaning forward in his seat. "This one." He scrunched his face up in the most adorable way, wrinkling his eyes, and sticking his tongue our for emphasis. Charlie huffed out a laugh and smirked.</p><p><b><em>"Let's put your Switch under the seat okay?"</em></b><br/>"Why?"<br/><b><em>"If you put it under the seat, no one can see it. Sometimes people like to take things that don't belong to them so if we put it out of view, it's like we're keeping your penguin friend safe."</em></b><br/>"Wade."<br/><b><em>"Wade."</em></b></p><p>Henry slid the small gaming device under the driver's seat and they both exited the car. Henry stood there silently beside his father, looking out at the rain falling onto the small plaza below. </p><p>"I miss the rain," Henry muttered, taking Charlie's hand. <br/><b><em>"You do?" <br/></em></b></p><p>Charlie peered down at his boy and saw his little eyes were filled with a melancholy kind of wonder. Henry nodded. The constant sunshine wasn't something he was used to before he moved. Unlike Los Angeles, Brooklyn had seasons. Living in California meant playdates for days on end without interruption, but there was something about the rain his son was missing. Gone were the days of splashing around in puddles and getting caught in downpours while running home from the subway were a thing of the past. </p><p>
  <b>
    <em>"You know, I think it's supposed to rain when you come back to New York with me next week."</em>
  </b>
</p><p>Henry stared up at him with wide, excited eyes. "Really?" <br/><b><em>"Mmhmm." </em></b></p><p>He watched as his son did a happy little dance at the mere thought of summer showers. </p><p><em><b>"And you remember what rain means, don't you?"<br/></b></em>"Hot chocolate?" Henry asked, his voice filled with glee.<br/>Charlie smiled, brushing Henry's hair with his fingers. <b><em>"Hot chocolate." </em></b></p><p>--</p><p>A/N: Hope you love these as much as I do! Leave me a comment for something you want to see with Charlie and Henry (and possibly Reader too!)</p><p> </p>
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<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Wasabi</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  
</p><p> </p><p>"And what's this one?" Henry asked, pointing to another piece of nigiri. <b><em>"That's salmon."</em></b>  He pushed another piece on the small plate with his chopstick. "And what about this one? What's that?" <br/><br/>Charlie chuckled a bit. <b><em>"That's yellowtail." </em></b> He motioned to the other pieces of nigiri on their respective plates. <b><em>"This is tuna and that one's albacore."</em></b>  He picked up a piece of your shared appetizer and placed it on Henry's plate. </p><p>"What's this?"<br/><b><em>"That's spicy tuna on top of crispy rice with avocado."<br/></em></b>"And that?"<br/><b><em>"That's pickled ginger."</em></b><br/>"What's the green stuff?"<br/><b><em>"That's wasabi." </em></b><br/><br/>You sipped your sake, finding the whole interaction adorable. Henry was so inquisitive. Charlie had told you before heading out for dinner that Nicole tried getting Henry to eat sushi before, but that he absolutely refused. The only thing he'd touch was a California roll and tempura. Ever the determined father, Charlie had his heart set on changing that. </p><p>"Wasabi," Henry repeated, liking the sound of the word.</p><p>You smiled. <em>"You only want to eat a little bit if you try any. It's really spicy." <br/></em>"I like spicy," he said, putting on a brave face. Henry reached over with his training chopsticks and poked the wasabi a bit, watching it roll on the small plate. Charlie huffed out a breath in amusement. <b><em>"Since when?"</em></b></p><p>"Since always," Henry replied, almost defensively. But that wasn't the case at all. Henry was slowly becoming an adventurous eater thanks to Charlie, but when it came to spice or heat, his tolerance was barely above nonexistent. You both watched as Henry picked up a big nugget of wasabi and brought it up to his nose. "This smells funny."</p><p><em><b>"Honey, I know what you're thinking, but I don't recommend it." </b> </em>Curiosity was written all over Henry's face. "I just want to try a little bit." Charlie picked up his chopsticks and took a tiny amount onto the end, holding it up to show Henry. <b><em>"This is all I would try. Anything more than this is going to be too much for you." </em></b><br/><br/>"Dad, I like spicy now." <br/>Charlie ate the small bit of wasabi off of his own chopsticks; he brought his glass to his lips for a sip of water and ate a couple of pieces of ginger to cleanse his palate. You both watched as Henry debated the pea sized ball he had between his own. Almost as if it were happening in slow motion, Henry brought the chopsticks up to his mouth. </p><p><em>"Charlie,"</em> you pleaded softly, wanting him to intervene.<br/><b><em>"Henry, I wouldn't."</em></b><br/>"Dad. Stop."<br/><br/>Charlie sighed, shrugging his shoulders. <em><b>"Okay, but it's going to be pretty hot." </b> </em>Without warning, Henry ate the wasabi. He sat there for a moment, pleased with himself, before his eyes started watering. "Ow," he muttered. His cries increased slowly in frequency, ultimately reaching their pinnacle when the burn really began to set in.</p><p> "Ow-Ow-Dad--"<br/><b><em>"--Henry, here," </em></b>Charlie interjected, shoving his water near Henry's mouth while his son's small hands were trying to fan the heat away.<b><em>"Honey, here."</em></b></p><p>"DAD! OWWW! HELP! It burns! My nose burns!" <br/><b><em>"Henry. Drink!"</em></b></p><p>His little hands quickly grasped the cup, the straw entering his mouth in record time as he slurped back the icy contents. After he finished Charlie's glass, he reached for his own, drinking half of another. Henry leaned over in his chair, resting against you. You let your fingers run through his hair in an effort to soothe him. <em>"You okay, cutie?"</em></p><p>Henry nodded, unwilling to move. His little arms wrapped around you as best they could and you held him. "Too spicy." <br/><br/><em>"We did try to tell you, honey."</em><br/>"I know,"Henry said, his voice muffled against your shirt before he sat up again. "I wanted to try." </p><p>Charlie reached over with his napkin and wiped Henry's nose. "Is the ginger spicy too?"<br/><b><em>"It is, but in a different way. It doesn't burn because it's pickled."</em></b></p><p>"Can I taste?"<br/><b><em>"Of course you can."</em></b></p><p>He picked up a couple of pieces with his own chopsticks and held them up to Henry's mouth, causing him to giggle. This seemed to be more pleasing to his palate or so the grin on his face suggested. "I like ginger." <br/><br/>Charlie gave you a fond smile and pulled his camera from his pocket to take a photo of you and Henry. </p><p><em><b>"Me too."<br/></b></em><em>"Me too."</em><br/>"Me three."</p><p>
  <em>--</em>
</p><p>A/N: Who wants to go to sushi with Charlie? :) </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p>
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